


A Promise Broken, a Promise Made

by Engineer104



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Ish?? - Freeform, just a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 21:43:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13690398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104
Summary: Pidge getting caught up in a project is nothing new, so why, exactly, is Lance so upset this time?Based on the prompt:  “kiss and make up”





	A Promise Broken, a Promise Made

**Author's Note:**

> For [kirei](http://kireiscorner.tumblr.com/) for a Valentine's Day gift exchange!!

****“… _just_ like Rover was, but unlike him, her facial recognition is advanced enough to predict someone’s  _mood_.  _And_ her indicator light changes color.” Pidge grinned as the small robot hovered around the room, its sensors pausing on each individual in turn. “I mean, she’ll never  _replace_ Rover, but I  _did_ build her myself…”

“What are you calling her?” Allura wondered. She held her hand out to the robot, which swiveled to take it in.

“Don’t know,” Pidge admitted with a shrug. “So far, I’ve been calling her Rover II, but she’s no longer in the prototype stage, so…” She nudged Lance in the side, and when he glanced at her, she smiled hopefully at him. “Got any ideas, Lance?”

Lance raised an eyebrow at her. “I got nothing,” he said.

Pidge’s face fell; he’d been treating her coldly – only speaking to her when she prompted, and not seeking her out like usual – for two ‘days’ now. Earlier, she’d assumed that he was having a bad day, especially since he brushed her off when she’d asked, but now it felt… _different_.

She didn’t like it. It reminded her too much of the beginning of her time at the Garrison, but with their positions reversed.

“I think I’m going to go take a nap,” Lance said. He stood up, extending his arms over his head in a luxurious stretch, and yawned. Then, without another word, he left them.

Pidge slumped into the sofa and sighed. Rover II approached her, hovering over her shoulder, its indicator light blinking. “What do  _you_ think?” she asked it quietly. When Rover II blinked at a slower rate, Pidge nodded and said, “Yeah, I think I’d better confront him.” She heaved herself up and, on her way out, waved goodbye to Allura, who watched her go with a bemused expression on her face.

Pidge wandered to the residential hall with Rover II trailing her, past her bedroom and towards Lance’s. She halted outside, but before she could even raise a hand to knock, the voices inside gave her pause.

“…she  _forgot_ , Hunk.”

“She probably just has a lot on her mind,” Hunk said. “You know how she is.”

“Quiznak, I  _know_ ,” Lance whined; Pidge could imagine him leaning forwards, burying his face in his hands out of frustration. “I just made  _special plans_ for us, and reminded her about them, and then she forgot them anyway!”

A chill traveled down Pidge’s spine. Her hand curled into a fist, eyes widening in horror as a memory trickled in.

_“You know, Pidge,” Lance said, leaning against her desk in the Green Lion’s hangar, “we haven’t spent much time together lately.”_

_Pidge glanced up at him in confusion. “Sure we have?” she told him, raising an eyebrow. “I see you almost daily.” She stuck a finger up. “We eat meals together, we sleep in the same bed sometime, we—”_

_“While that’s all true,” Lance interrupted, “I was thinking something a little more…romantic?” He smiled at her, the kind of smile that made her heart skip a beat and her stomach flutter._

_Feigning nonchalance, Pidge wondered, “Then what, exactly, did you have in mind?”_

_Lance knelt on the floor next to her chair so his face was just below her eye level. He rested a warm hand on her bare knee. “Well, I still haven’t beaten you in that new game,” he said, voice low._

_Pidge put her hand on top of his and leaned towards him, smirking. “And if I have anything to say about it, you never will.”_

_“One day, Pidge. But oh, that’s not all!”_

_“All right, tell me more.”_

_“Hmm.” Now Lance smirked as he neared so that they were almost nose to nose, his breath warm on her face. “Last time we were at the swap moon, you know what I found?”_

_“I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.” Distracted by his proximity, Pidge’s eyes flicked down to his lips, but before she could do something about it, he leaned back and stood up. She crossed her arms and scowled up at him. “What, are you just here to tease me then?”_

_“Nah, I’m not that cruel.” Then he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a tiny jar._

_Of_ peanut butter.

_“Is that—is that what I think it is?” Her gaze caught on the object in his hand, her stomach rumbling quietly._

_Lance chuckled. “Hey, if you want this, you gotta take a break from your…project.”_

_“Rover II?” Pidge glanced at the prototype drone lying on her desk. “Are you_ bribing  _me to go on a date with you, Lance?”_

_“Uh, yup,” Lance said, “since it seems like that’s the only way I can get one sometimes.” His voice held no bitterness, but guilt sat heavily in her stomach anyway._

_“All right,” she said, smiling. “I’ll give you a whole day, just us. You just pick it.”_

_Lance grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’ll be a good day,” he promised her._

_Pidge wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his abdomen. “Every day with you is good.”_

_“Aw, Pidge, that was almost romantic!” Lance teased, but she could hear the embarrassment in his tone._

_She rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t make me regret those words.”_

“Have you considered talking to her about it?”

Hunk’s words jerked Pidge from her recollection. She groaned, covering her face with a hand;  _quiznak_ , she was an idiot, or at the very least an awful, absentminded girlfriend. She needed to make it up to Lance in some way, but Pidge’s ideas of romance were definitely…lacking.

Could she buy him roses? Wait, where would she even  _find_ roses in space?

“—better just go talk to her,” Lance said from inside the room, and the only warning that Pidge had of his exit was Rover II’s brief sound of alarm.

Pidge glanced up in time to see Lance staring at her from his open doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. “Lance,” she said, “I’m really sorry.”

Lance blinked at her in surprise. “How long have you been listening?”

Pidge shuffled her feet but made a point to look him in the eye. “Long enough,” she admitted. “I just…well, you know how I am.” Before he could do much more than roll his eyes, she quickly added, “Not that I’m trying to make excuses! I shouldn’t have forgotten, and you shouldn’t have to remind me.”

Lance stared at her for a long, heart-stopping moment, long enough that something like fear settled into Pidge, making her stomach churn. But then he smiled almost sheepishly and said, “Yeah, I know how you are. I just kind of wish you’d put in a little effort sometimes, you know?”

Pidge nodded, opening her mouth to promise that she would, but Lance continued:

“I know you like me, Pidge, but sometimes…well, it’s not like I  _need_ some grand romantic gesture from you, since I know you don’t like those, but maybe just something other than our usual sometimes?” He shrugged, frowning.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Pidge promised. She bit her lip and wiped her hands on her shorts.

“I’m sure you will,” Lance said, “eventually. I’ll see you at dinner, Pidge.” He stepped around her, giving her a wide berth so that their arms didn’t even brush, and left her standing alone in front of his bedroom door.

Pidge watched him go, her heart clenching and shoulders slumping. She leaned against the wall and sunk to the floor, burying her face in her hands and shaking with frustration at  _herself_. “Why am I like this?” she asked, half-addressing Rover II and half-talking to herself.

“I couldn’t tell you,” another voice input, so suddenly that Pidge flinched, glaring up in surprise at Hunk, peeking around Lance’s bedroom doorway. He shrugged, almost apologetically, and said, “You knew I was here, Pidge.”

She sighed and said, “I guess this means you heard everything.”

“Yep,” Hunk agreed. He sat on the floor beside her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, I tried not to.”

Pidge snorted, and even Rover II chirped. “Not really.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. What are you going to do to make it up to him?”

Pidge pulled her legs closer to her body, pressing her forehead to her knees. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I know he likes… _grand romantic gestures_.” She made a sweeping motion with her arms for emphasis. “But where am I going to find roses or candles?” She rounded on Hunk, her eyes widening in horror. “Do you know what happened the last time I tried to cook dinner for my family?”

Hunk raised an eyebrow at her. “No, but I’m guessing you’re about to tell me.”

Pidge ignored that and plowed on, “I forgot to turn off the stove and the sprinklers activated! The water then shorted out all the wiring in my brother’s robotics project, and  _then_ —”

“All right, I think I get the idea,” Hunk interrupted, “but did you ever think you could maybe do something a little more  _personal_ for Lance?”

She furrowed her brow, the question calming her. “I did not,” she said with a wry chuckle. “See? I told you that I’m bad at this.” She slumped. “I know Lance better than I know almost anyone else, but I  _still_ don’t know what to  _do_ , Hunk!” She scowled at the floor, trying to seek some answer in the panels, but of course it failed to enlighten her.

“You apologized, so that’s a good first step.”

“Wow, thanks for validating me—”

“Hey, no snarking while I’m trying to help you!” Hunk glared at her.

Pidge bit her lip and mumbled an apology as she averted her eyes from his face. “What do you think then?”

“What do you usually do on your little informal dates?” Hunk wondered.

Pidge tapped her foot, thinking. “Play video games, watch and critique old Altean movies, talk…” She shrugged and admitted, “I’m not sure what Lance had planned, but I know he wanted to do something  _different_ from our usual.” She turned her head to smile hopefully at Hunk. “Did he tell  _you_ what he had planned? I know it involved peanut butter, at least.”

Hunk twiddled his thumbs and confessed, “He didn’t tell me the details, no.” Then he frowned and shook his head. “He didn’t even mention the peanut butter!”

Pidge snorted and nudged Hunk’s arm. “Are you offended?”

“Very,” he said. “That guy has the audacity to call me his best friend and doesn’t even mention that he found  _peanut butter_ in  _space_?” Hunk scowled and rolled his eyes. “If I ever find a garlic substitute, you can bet your quiznak I won’t be telling  _him_ now.”

Pidge laughed, amused despite the gravity of her situation, but when she remembered she sobered. “I just know that whatever he planned would’ve been thoughtful and that I would’ve liked it.” She sighed and knocked her head on the wall behind her. “I need to do something just as thoughtful for him.”

Rover II chirped in agreement, and Pidge smiled at it. Maybe she could set it to spy on Lance… Maybe he would confess to something he wanted that Pidge could then arrange… Maybe—

That idea halted in its tracks, and Pidge clutched the hem of her sweater as she recognized its futility. It would be a mark of failure if she had to spy on her own boyfriend to devise the perfect surprise for him.

Rover II’s indicator light blinked red, pulling Pidge’s attention away from her dismal thoughts. It turned a little towards Hunk, and when Pidge glanced at him, her eyes widened.

“What if…we  _did_ find a garlic substitute?” Pidge said carefully to gauge Hunk’s reaction.

“So…?”

“Would you help me bake some garlic knots?”

* * *

Between the Castle’s database of life-supporting planets and the Green Lion’s scanners, finding a substitute for garlic was surprisingly straightforward. The only  _real_ criteria they used in their search was for an underground bulb high in sulfur content.

(The Green Lion’s cockpit smelled of garlic for a good few quintants afterwards; Pidge was grateful for the air filters in her helmet, but Green was not so appreciative of the stink.)

But even after assembling all the necessary ingredients for garlic knots, Pidge still felt like her plans were  _missing_ something.

Luckily, Lance didn’t outright avoid her while she worked on a solution, so that gave her the opportunity to ask him pointed questions.

“So do you still have the peanut butter?” Pidge wondered once after dinner, smiling hopefully at him.

Lance chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, looking awkward enough that Pidge frowned at him. He then said, “Actually I, uh, ate it when you stood me up.”

Pidge narrowed her eyes at him. “Not that I didn’t deserve it, but—”

“And the jar was mislabeled,” Lance added. “It was actually hazelnut spread.”

Pidge blinked at him. “Huh.” She glanced at Rover II when it chirped, and its indicator light flashed orange, alerting her that Lance was lying. “Are you sure?”

“Yep,” Lance said. He loudly slurped his soup and offered Hunk a thumbs up. “This is great, buddy. What did you put in it?”

Hunk met Lance’s eyes and deadpanned, “Garlic.”

Pidge pressed a frustrated hand to her face, and Lance, mid-gulp, sprayed him with soup. “Where the  _quiznak_ did you get it?”

“Unnamed planet a few lightyears from here,” Hunk informed him. “Pidge and Coran helped me locate and collect some.” He drained his bowl and dropped it onto the table. “I was going to surprise you, but then I remembered that you never told me about your peanut butter.”

“H- _hazelnut_ spread!” Lance argued.

“Rover II knows when you’re lying,” Pidge input.

Lance turned his head and  _gaped_ at her. “ _How_?”

“She analyzes facial queues,” Pidge explained, pointing her spork towards the drone. “The better she knows someone, the more easily she can predict how they feel…or if they’re telling the truth.” She smirked at him. “So why are you lying about eating the peanut butter?”

“Because I’m still a little upset!” he said, easily and without hesitating, surprising Pidge. “Did you really think I’d eat something I was saving to share with you, Pidge?”

Pidge crossed her arms, rapidly recovering from her shock. “I didn’t think you’d lie to me either,” she retorted.

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that  _before_ you stood me up!” Lance mirrored her posture and stabbed his spork into his soup bowl, the metal of the utensil scraping against the glass.

Pidge flinched, reflexively reaching up to cover her ears.

“Sorry,” Lance said. He dropped his spork and glanced at her. “And…I shouldn’t have lied.”

“I shouldn’t have forgotten,” Pidge said. “What  _did_ you have planned?”

Lance rested his elbow on the table and propped his chin on the palm of his hand. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He shrugged.

“Sure it does,” Pidge said, raising an eyebrow at him. “If I know what I missed, then I’ll feel even  _worse_ , right?”

Lance snorted, smiling in amusement. “The moment literally passed, Pidge,” he said. “I still have the peanut butter, but we’re no longer near that intergalactic zoo like we were a few quintants ago.”

“Intergalactic zoo?” Pidge blinked at him. “I would’ve…really liked that.” She rested her forehead on the table’s surface and groaned, “ _Quiznak_.”

Lance chuckled, the sound so welcome after his chilliness that it spread warmth through her chest. And to her delight, he took her hand and squeezed. “Did you ever think of programming one of your robots with a schedule?”

Pidge laughed and said, “Maybe that  _would_ solve a few problems, huh?”

Lance grinned, but then he spun around and pointed at Hunk. “Now  _you_ need to explain why you haven’t made garlic knots yet.”

While Hunk floundered for a reasonable lie – she hoped Lance didn’t notice Rover II’s furious orange blinking – Pidge hid a smile behind her hand.

* * *

Pidge sat at her terminal in the Castle’s bridge, her computer in her lap while she searched through the pictures she had saved on the hard drive, seeking some inspiration that she could use to… _woo_ Lance.

“What  _else_ does Lance miss from Earth?” she said aloud.

“He mentioned rain and puddles to me once,” someone behind her said.

Pidge jumped, catching her computer before it toppled from her lap, and turned to see Coran standing in the bridge’s entrance. “What?”

“Number Three once spoke about rain and puddles,” Coran explained. “And…a beach? A boardwalk? I’m not sure what the puddles contain, or what a boardwalk even  _is_  though.” He twirled his mustache, thinking. “Does one  _walk_ on a boardwalk, or is it figurative?”

Pidge stared at him, stunned both by his information and the odd questioning. “It’s…yes, we walk on boardwalks,” she said. “And he must’ve meant rain puddles.”

“ _Rain_ puddles?” Coran hummed. “Now splashing in  _those_ doesn’t sound pleasant at all! Puddles of boiling rocks? Ha! I’d rather be chased by a klanmuirl.”

Pidge watched, utterly bewildered, as Coran wandered back out of the bridge. “What just happened?” she asked Rover II, glancing at the Altean mouse that fled, hot on Coran’s heels.

Rover II beeped, and Pidge, newly armed with the information Coran gave her, returned her attention to her computer screen and searched her pictures for beaches.

* * *

When Pidge relayed her idea to Hunk, he mimed wiping a tear from his eye.

“Oh, Pidge,” he sniffed, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

She crossed her arms and  _glared_ at him. “There’s no reason to be so surprised,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, I guess we should’ve expected Lance to rub off on you eventually,” Hunk agreed. He grinned widely though, and for a moment Pidge worried she would have to  _beg_ for his help, until he said, “What do you need from me?”

“The garlic knots,” Pidge said, holding up a finger as she counted off, “though I want to try making them myself.”

“Fair,” Hunk said with a nod. “I approve this part of the plan.”

Pidge put up her second finger. “Then I…want you to help me rig up the system. I can ask Coran, if you’re not up to it, but I’d rather you help me out since this is a little…personal.” She smiled hopefully at him, and to her relief he was nodding again before she finished her sentence.

“If it comes to it,” Hunk mused, “we can ask Coran about the system since it  _is_ unfamiliar.”

“I hope it won’t.” Pidge shrugged and stuck up her third finger. “And then I need you to lay the bait.”

“Lure Lance into the trap you’ve laid?” Hunk chuckled and rubbed his hands together, looking more like a cartoon villain than Pidge was comfortable with. “I’m  _very_ happy to do that.”

“Great!” Pidge hugged Hunk around the middle. “Thank you, Hunk. This would be impossible without you.”

Hunk rubbed her back and said, “Well, just make sure that if you fail miserably, it’s entirely your fault. Not that you will!” he hurriedly added when she scowled up at him.

The bulk of Pidge’s – and Hunk’s, at least by implementation – plan was easier to enact than she’d dared hope, and between the mice’s assistance and her new familiarity with old Altean systems, she soon had an immersive  _experience_ prepared, the kind that, except for a few imperfections that Pidge couldn’t remove or even  _hide_ no matter how she tried, held up to scrutiny…at least if she didn’t try to  _touch_ it.

After successfully – with a generous amount of intervention from Hunk – baking their approximation of garlic knots, Pidge stood alone in the Castle’s virtual landscaping chamber. She watched as her simulation played a time lapse of a sunrise on a hastily cobbled together amalgamation of Earth beaches. The ‘sky’ above her – covering the ceiling so well that she couldn’t distinguish its panels – changed from a velvety black to navy and steadily to the vivid blue of a clear day.

But where she’d succeeded with the sky, the rest of the simulation failed under scrutiny.

Pidge bit her lip, heart thumping with nerves as she waited for Lance to arrive. Her hands were damp with sweat, and everywhere she glanced, a mismatched bundle of pixels jumped out at her:  here, that patch of sand was the wrong shade of brown, and there, that section of wave crashed on the shore just a millisecond ahead of the rest.

“He’s going to  _hate_ it,” Pidge muttered to Rover II. “It looks too  _fake_!” She rubbed her face and groaned, then, deciding that the garlic knots – whose heavenly scent, quite different from that of sand and salt, already filled the chamber – would have to be enough. But before she could so much as step towards her computer running the simulation in the corner, she heard the door slide open behind her, followed by a sharp gasp.

“Holy  _quiznak_ ,” Lance breathed. “Mother of G—”

Pidge spun around towards him, her wide eyes meeting his, but before he could say anything else, she said, “Are you from outer space? Because you’re out of this world.”

Lance stared at her, blinking in astonishment, until he burst into laughter and doubled over with the force of it.

Pidge approached him, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at him. Her cheeks were unbelievably hot, and the false sea breeze the chamber provided did little to cool her.

When Lance caught his breath – there were honest to God  _tears_ in his eyes – he stood up straight and grinned at her. “All right, first of all, it’s ‘ _your body_  is out of this world’. Second of all…” He gestured at the room around them, at the wide blue sky that disappeared out of sight, beyond the chamber’s walls, and the vivid rippling ocean crashing onto the sand. He turned his head, smiling at the sight, and asked, “How did you do this?”

Pidge, gratified by the awe on his face, smiled and explained, “I just took a bunch of images of Earth’s beaches that I had saved on my computer and stitched them together. I had to extrapolate a bit to generate some of this, so the most accurate part will be the night sky.”

“Night sky?” Lance raised an eyebrow at her.

Pidge nodded. “Specifically, in about…a varga or so we’ll get a sunset and be treated to the view of the summertime night sky over Veradero Beach.” She frowned then and admitted, “I know the beach and the ocean itself don’t look  _perfect_ ; I did the best with what I had.  _This_ beach doesn’t really exist on Earth, but it’s at least an approximation of a Caribbean beach, so I hope that—”

Lance interrupted her, wrapping his arms around her with enough strength that, for a tic, she couldn’t breathe. She smiled and returned his embrace, then asked, “Do you like it?”

Without pulling away – in fact, he clutched her a little tighter, burying his face in her shoulder – he said, “I quiznaking  _love_ it, Pidge.” He withdrew enough to rest his forehead against hers and added, “And it may not be like a beach on Earth, but it’s perfect.”

Pidge grinned wider. “Does this mean you forgive me for standing you up?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Please, I forgave you as soon as you apologized.”

“So I went through all this trouble for nothing?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, is  _that_ what you—” He cut himself off, glancing around the chamber with a slight frown on his face. He sniffed and wondered, “What’s that smell?”

Rover II, hovering nearby, beeped, and Pidge pointed towards it and the tray beside it. “You hungry?” she said.

Lance’s eyes widened when they fell on the garlic knots. “You didn’t,” he said.

Pidge coughed and confessed, “I didn’t by myself, at least.”

Lance pressed a kiss to her forehead, making her face heat up again, then grabbed her hand and dragged her to the tray. They sat on the same side of it, as if sinking into the sand while feeling the hard floor beneath them.

“The simulation has some shortcomings,” Pidge said sheepishly when Lance scraped his fingers against the floor.

“The simulation is doing just  _great_ , Pidge,” Lance reassured her, “except I  _really_ hope these aren’t a simulation.” He pointed to the garlic knots.

Pidge chuckled and said, “They’re real.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I knew Hunk wouldn’t hold out on me!” He took one off the tray, carefully pinching it between his hands, and tore it in two. “They’re still fresh!” He passed one half to Pidge.

She took it, even though she could’ve just as easily taken a second one from the tray, and nibbled on it, more interested in Lance’s reaction than in enjoying the fruits of her – and Hunk’s – labor for herself.

Lance’s face was a curious sight, and between what she saw and Rover II’s analytical feedback, it was a mix of bliss, glee, and melancholy. Pidge scooted a bit closer to him, pressing their shoulders together, as he ate the first knot.

And the next, and the last, since she was satisfied with just half (plus, she’d eaten one to try them after baking). Lance then waggled his eyebrows at her and asked, “Is this what you fed me because you don’t want me to kiss you today?”

Pidge snorted and tugged him down by the back of the neck to show him what she thought of  _that_.

“Hey, Pidge,” Lance said, voice low, after they parted to catch their breath, “this is easily one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever done for me.”

Pidge, halfway into his lap, patted his cheek and said, “Better than an intergalactic zoo?”

Lance snorted, catching her hand in both of his and kissing her knuckles. “Well, considering I  _can’t_ do what you did…yes, much better.”

Pidge coughed, resisting the embarrassed urge to tug her hand from his grip, but she recovered enough to quip, “I’m guessing that making out on a beach can be knocked off your bucket list now?”

Lance laughed and said, “How do you know it was on there?”

“A lucky guess,” Pidge said, “based on who you are as a person.” She winked at him. “Besides, if you try to lie, Rover II will know.” She pointed to the drone, which blinked an affirmative in green at her.

Lance frowned at the drone, then looked at her. “Fine, I confess,” he said, “but as perfect as this beach is”—Pidge inhaled, bracing for disappointment—“I wouldn’t mind crossing that one off at a couple  _other_ beaches too.”

Pidge giggled and said, “You know, you’re a lot smoother when you’re not trying so hard.”

“Who said I wasn’t trying that time?” He smiled almost  _suggestively_ at her.

Pidge glanced at Rover II, but when it didn’t blink orange – apparently, Lance found a  _loophole_ by phrasing it as a question – she said, “Who said you need to try at all with me?”

To her amazement and glee, Lance flushed red, then leaned forward to press his forehead on her shoulder, arms loosely wrapped around her waist. “Thanks, Pidge,” he said, sounding a little choked.

Pidge ran her fingers through his hair and hummed. “You’re very welcome,” she said.

They sat like that for longer than Pidge bothered to keep track of, basking in each other’s presence and in the artificial warmth of a sun that rapidly drifted across an equally artificial sky. Her heart pounded a steady rhythm, and she felt calmer than she had in way too long.

Then the sky darkened overhead, the crashing of waves nearly overlaid with the rumble of distant thunder.

Lance lifted his head and looked up, his jaw dropping at a sudden arc of lightning flashing across the sky. Another clap of thunder, this one louder, sounded, the water churning with white foam as the wind picked up, strong enough to tug at her clothes.

“This is…wow,” Lance breathed.

Rain fell from the heavy gray clouds, the projected drops collecting on their clothes without drenching them. But the showers soaked into the sand, darkening it to gray, and though they couldn’t feel anything – not the damp hitting their skin or the warmth of a tropical rain – if Pidge closed her eyes and listened to the rolling thunder, intense flashes of lightning dancing on the inside of her eyelids, she could imagine it was as real as the water streaking Lance’s cheeks.

Pidge did a doubletake at the sight. “Lance?” she prompted.

He jumped, startled by her voice, and smiled shakily at her. “Sorry,” he said, wiping at his face. “I just got a little homesick.”

Pidge shifted closer and hugged him again, pulling his head down so they could touch foreheads again. “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“N-no, no, you didn’t do anything wrong!” Lance quickly reassured her. “Actually, you’ve done everything right.”

Warmed but still worried, Pidge said, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know,” Lance said. He offered her a smile, and when it raised no alarms with her or with Rover II, she accepted it as genuine. “I just wish I could touch it, you know?”

Pidge nodded and said, “I do too.” She shuddered, an unwelcome lump in her own throat, but laughed. “Quiznak, me too.”

He laughed with her, and by the time they stopped, the rain abated, the dark storm clouds withering and blowing away to almost nothingness, leaving behind a sun just starting to sink into the waves.

“So…a sunset, Pidge?” Lance asked with a sly glance at her. But he turned to face the sunset, disentangling their limbs only to snake an arm around her waist and pull her closer.

Pidge rested her head on his shoulder and said, “I know you like them, and I wanted to see what the fuss was about.”

“Very romantic, Pidge,” Lance teased with a nudge in the side.

“Keep it up,” Pidge threatened idly, “and you’ll never see this side of me again.”

Lance gasped and glared at her. “No! I love this new side of you! Almost as much as I love the rest of you, too.”

Pidge stared at him, heart thumping while her brain processed what he said. “Y-you do?” she said dumbly.

Lance frowned at her. “Of course I—” His face turned red, and he coughed into his fist and said, “I—yes, Pidge, I love you.”

“Look at me and say it again,” Pidge said, hardly daring to believe it.

Lance met her eyes, looking like a deer caught in headlights until a smile softened his face, the red light of an artificial sunset giving his skin a warm glow. “I love you, Pidge.”

Pidge laughed and said, “Oh, good.” She leaned into him. “I love you too. Just…please don’t forget it the next time I screw something up.”

Lance threaded his fingers through her hair and promised, “Only as you long as you don’t forget it either.”

The sun bled into the projected ocean, Pidge’s line of sight only broken by Rover II inching a bit closer, as if it hoped to touch the horizon. And she smiled and said, “Curiosity.”

“What was that?” Lance asked, turning so that his chin grazed the top of her head.

“Her name,” Pidge decided, “is Curiosity.”

The drone turned, indicator blinking green – Curiosity’s light bright as the chamber plunged into a star-studded darkness.

* * *

”Hey, Lance?”

“Yeah, Pidge?”

“Are you planning on sharing that peanut butter or keeping it all to yourself?”

**Author's Note:**

> A part of the ending scene was specifically inspired by [this lovely art](https://honestlyprettychill.tumblr.com/post/170089811862/after-hearing-about-how-much-lance-missed-rain) by [honestlyprettychilly](https://honestlyprettychill.tumblr.com/), with their permission


End file.
